Percieve the Perilous
by Cragun Rhees
Summary: SEQUEL TO BECOME THE BELLIGERENT EVERWORLD FANFIC David, April, and Christopher journey back to the Great Diggings with a handful of Greek and Norse Gods and embark on a quest to save Jalil from the grips of the Sennites and save the mighty Mount Olympus
1. Chapter 1

PERCIEVE THE PERILOUS

By: Cragun Rhees

CHAPTER I

Gun fire. All around me. The ground was warm with blood. All around me lie dead bodies. Sennites. Vanir. Everyone was dying.

I felt like lying down. I felt like calling out for my mommy. I felt like crying. April was crying. She was curled up in the fetal position, her body against the trench. Everyone needed to cry. This was a true war.

I couldn't see Christopher and Jalil. The last I saw Christopher had pulled Jalil from the trench after a grenade had invaded their safety. Jalil didn't look too good. He was bleeding and it looked like his legs had been broken. I was pretty sure Christopher had been shot. I saw him collapse back in to the foxhole before a surge of Vanir soldiers had stormed the forest ahead. They were dead. I was sure of that. The Vanir had charged an ambush. There was so much gunfire ahead that it was unclear what to do.

I looked to my left. Tyr was in the same trench. His broadsword out. His eyes were wide. He looked no longer viciously ready for battle. He was scared. His handless arm was shaking. The armor on his arm seemed to have melted down. The God's were getting cut down. It seemed impossible. Humans couldn't touch a god. There was something unique about guns that was destroying them. Freya was last seen clenching a wounded stomach, ordering her soldiers of Folkvang to charge the woods after Aegir had send a great fire-hose stream to purge the woods. Not sure what good that did. For all I knew, the Sennites had a fleet of M1's and peck of Blackhawks. We were finished. Odin-All-Seer had led his family in to a death trap.

Soldiers piled in to the trench with loud rattles. Many of them had blood streaked or dripping from their once untarnished armor. Some of them took of their helmets or plates to look at the streams of blood gurgling from their wounds. Some were crying. Some of the most brutal and most feared warriors in the history of civilization were crying. Senna had given war in Everworld a whole new meaning. Welcome to the Tet Assault of '69. Welcome to D-Day on the beaches of Normandy. Welcome to the Old World.

I army crawled my way through the trench to get to Tyr holding the bloody M-16 I had grabbed from a Sennite who had managed to fall in to the trench. His arm was still shaking ominously. His chiseled and perfectly muscular face was twitching with rage or terror. It was hard to tell which one.

I was scared. I was so scared that I couldn't even feel fear. I couldn't feel anything. I could see. I could hear my heart beat and I could hear the cracks of gunfire in the forest. I could see Tyr. He was close to crying.

"TYR!" I screamed my throat sore on that one. He didn't seem to hear me. His sword dropped from his hand. I quickly grabbed it and stood. We were both vulnerable like this, but the Sennites were busy making perforations in about 90 Folkvang soldiers.

I slowly held out his sword, as to not alarm him. He looked down. His eyes were full of tears. He was crying. I would be too if I wasn't a step away from pissing my pants again. These were his friends who were crying for mercy on the battlefield. His friends who were looking down at their stomach and watching their insides turned out. Even an experienced warrior would cry if suddenly he realized he was going to die without his brethren going on to win. Anyone would cry when they realized that they had just led their friends a comrades in to a slaughter.

"TYR!" I screamed again. I was reenacting Saving Private Ryan, except Tyr was Tom Hanks and I was the guy who gets his face blown in to his skull.

Tyr looked up at me with an expressionless face. He grabbed his sword with a shaking hand. His face looked pleading. This wasn't his battle. He had no idea how to fight this. My dad had two purple hearts. My dad taught me a thing or two about valor. I was the general and this was my war. I was Custer and this was my last stand. I had to take the reigns.


	2. Chapter II

CHAPTER II

Galahad's sword was clenched so tight in my left hand that I could feel the decorated hilt leaving its pattern in my palm. My M-16 was clenched against my shoulder in my right hand. I was scared shitless. I had no idea what I was up against. I had no idea how many Sennites were out there. As Christopher would say, "Welcome to Viet-freaking-nam, man"

I climbed out of the trench and faced behind me. The Folkvang were kneeling in the trenches by the thirties and forties, many of which had only pieces of their armor, and were clenching battle wounds. Some were perched, ready for action. Freya was at the very back, pushing streams of white from her fingers, healing wounds.

"FREYA!" I called at the top of my lungs. My throat was horse, and my jaw was sore from clenching my teeth. I realized I had no plan. Time to improvise, David. Time to buck up and be a Levin. Time to fight with your balls, not your brain.

"Yes young mortal!" Her voice echoed in my head. She hadn't really spoken. Not with her mouth at least. She was in my head. Just as all the Gods were. She could hear my mind. No use making it sound like I knew a plan that would win, but at least I had some ideas.

"Get your Volkvang to the Slepnirs. Knock down those trees over there and form a small fort over top of them. Form a trench that'll surround the position of the enemy." I had no idea what I was talking about. If there was a fort, they'd probably blow the hell out of it. Easy target. The trench may slow them down though. I had no idea where this was coming from. I could smell the rotten tomato smell of blood and guts and fried hair. It was probably going to my head.

"It shall be done," said the voice in my head. Freya rose up from her trench without the aid of anything but the bright aura around her. Her hair whipped around with the violence of a hurricane and her ever changing eyes held a sudden angry glowing purple. The ground shook and the wind became harsh and loud. With a rumble worthy of an earthquake, the trees around us uprooted themselves and lifted at least 5 feet from the great craters they had just pulled from, dirt and water and broken roots and leaves falling from them.

"BRETHREN IN ARMS!" Yelled Freya in a booming voice that seemed to carry with it an odd light followed the syllables like an equalizer on a stereo. "FOLLOW YOUR HEARTS THE WAY OF MY WILL AND FALL BACK! FALL TO THE LINES OF YOUR LIVES!"

In unison a good amount of soldiers crawled from the trenches, many bleeding and moaning as they did so. I say April stand with a purposeful look in her eyes. Purposeful, but afraid.

The gunfire that had been erupting in the forest ahead suddenly ceased. A few very battered and bloody Folkvang soldiers ran full throttle from the woods and jumped over the trenches. All of the soldiers were now gathering in a big awkward square of four very large oak trees, which had all their branches magically pruned.

With a sound like 3 million bags popcorn popping, gunfire erupted from the forest. I turned around just long enough to see the tiny flares of gun barrels and the whipping of tracers. I ducked and jumped clear over the trench, bullets grazing the ground around me.

I ran. Ran for my life. I had never thought of retreating in a war. Whenever I had pictured myself in a war, it was in some cold forest like this, but with a battalion of elite soldiers in camouflage with face paint and MP-4's. We would take prone and fire well aimed shots in to the enemy. I would charge a small farm house while the other squadrons charged the barn and storage shacks and lean-tos and stables and we would kill all that resisted capture. If we had to retreat, I would already be dead with a snipers bullet.

I dove in to the big square. Freya was standing in the center, still floating on her brilliant aura. Christopher was there too. And April. They were both huddled against a wall. No sign of Jalil. He must be dead. That thought made me want to faint. Made me want to kill something. A few Sennites poked themselves from the forest, their guns slung up. I got prone on my belly and took perfect aim.

My father had taken me shooting when I was 15. I hadn't really forgotten what I learned. Head up, both eyes open, weight against the butt of the rifle, keep pressure on the second hand. I squeezed the trigger. The sound of the rifle made half the Vanir soldiers jump. One of the soldiers fell. Goodnight. I swiveled the gun. Squeeze. Down. Goodnight. I kept the gun centered. When I was sure it was clear, I threw myself back in to the square.

"FREYA!" I called loudly. "Enclose us!" With an earthshaking CRACK all the logs fell in perfect unison, one of top of the other. The new fort got dark in an instant. My eyes hardly had time to adjust.

I slumped against the walls. The room was full of moaning wounded. I had just turned the front line in to a MASH unit. Loki stood in the back. His eyes were wide. Even the god of chaos was probably not used to seeing such an odd sight. A room full of dying men with naught more then a tiny hole in their armor. A tiny hole in their flesh. A tiny hole that was spewing blood at a rate that no sword could do. I was exhausted. We all were. The battle had lasted maybe half an hour. Probably less. We were dead in here. I spotted Oller. He had his bow of feathers clutched tight against his chain mail.

"Oller!" I called over the moans. He looked up. His eyes were narrow. He was scared. He stood and walked to me. His legs shaking with every wide step.

"Yes General." I froze. I was their General. This WAS my battle. We were screwed.

"Um. We need archers. Talented ones. Snipers." I looked over at Freya. She was now walking on the ground and striding over towards us. "We're going to draw trenches behind the fort and make two lines facing the enemy. We also need archers on the roof and they need to be concealed. Well concealed. If we take all the branches and line them up vertically on all sides the foliage should keep from anything the seidr can't cover. Understood?"

Freya looked somewhat abashed and off-guard that a human was giving her orders, but she gritted her teeth and nodded. "Det gjort. Hva av grøftene omgi fienden? Fienden sprer seg fjernt og mange. Det er meget hard til grøft dem all."

I dropped my M-16 and Galahad's sword. What the hell was that! Had I lost my mind? That was definitely not English. Norse. It was Norse.

"What!" I screamed louder then I should. Freya and Oller's eyes widened. Loki and Aegir stood, both looked like a group of black guys from the hood do when you call their friend the "N" word.

Loki's voice boomed. "A MORTAL! LEARN YOUR PLACE YOU FOULEST OF SWINES! YOU ARE A MORTAL! YOU WILL NOT TALK TO A LORD OF THE SKY IN SUCH A TONE!" Loki was bearing down on me fast, his body growing so that he became as massive as the fort itself.

"Isorry" I said hurriedly. "I-di'n't-understand. What did you say?" Freya looked at me curiously. Her beautiful color-shifting eyes became a silvery-blue color.

"Your head is working in such ways as to not understand the language of Asgard. Strange." That hit me like a ton of bricks. She was speaking in an Everworld Common Language, but to her she was speaking Old Norse, and that's what it sounded like. My Everworld Inter-Galactic All-Purpose Translator had just shorted out. Good Grief.

"I said, young warrior," said Frey very slowly, like I was a young child. that the lines of the enemy are far spread and that our trenches will not encase them. What of such news shall we take to actions?"

I racked my brain. I felt sick. I wanted to go home. We were in a death trap. Already Oller was floating upward through a crude hole in the ceiling which he himself had carved with seidr. If anything, these guys were efficient with their orders. None of that yes sir, no sir, order the battalion left flank crap. They got to business ASAP. I needed a plan. April stood up.

"We should drown them out." She said meekly. Everyone looked at her blankly.

"Yeah," called Christopher hoarsely. He sounded like he had been crying. "Freaking rain storm man. That'd take care of them. Flood the trenches. Then all they can do is shoot as us. I may not know bullet, but I don't think they can get through two feet of oak."

Aegir stood up and got ready to do his thing. No. Not happening.

"NO!" I screamed. "We still have men in the trenches. Live men. Our men."

Christopher spoke. "They're gonners man. If we don't flood the trenches the Sennites are just going to shoot like. Like fish in freaking barrel." April nodded. Two against one.

"What about Jalil!" They both put their heads down. They knew something I didn't.

"He's dead man. Grenade," said Christopher. April let out a soft cry.

"You're sure?" my voice sounded unlike my own.

"I've never seen anyone fly 10 feet from a grenade blast and live, man. He's gone." April was now crying full on. She had slumped to the ground with her head in her hands. I opened my mouth to talk, but only a loud grumble issued from it.

"Man the roofs," I said quietly after a few moments. My voice was hushed and strained. My throat was sore and full. I felt like crying. Jalil was my ultimate ally in Everworld. He was my first ally back in the real world. He was now a friend. He was dead. "Aegir. Flood the trenches. We need rain and a lot of it. Freya. Call the men Folkvang back to the gates of Asgard. We're getting our asses out of here."

Aegir puffed up his chest and floated up to the roof. Freya was getting her aura back. Her face was once again very purposeful.

"MEN OF FOLKVANG! CHILDREN OF MIDGAARD! You're services have been of greatness. We are thankful and your reward is that of Valhalla! I call you to ascend to the heavens!" With that a loud clank came. The men sounded as if they had all been pulled from their suits by a giant vacuum. Around me a loud clank of armor came and all the once manned suits lay in disarray around the sloppy fort. It was just me, Christopher, April, and the Gods around an amassed pile of bloody, dirty armor.

"We should get to the roof," April said. "Its no good to see our escape here." I nodded. Our voices weren't our own. They were strained and on the brink of tears. April looked a mess. Her hair was wet in parts and it was all over the place. Her face was smeared with mud and blood and tears. Her whole body was shaking and it looked like she had been biting her lip. Christopher was no better. He was covered in blood. His shirt was half soaked in it. Probably Jalil's.

Don't think about that David Levin. War has casualties. This wasn't anyone's fault so its not time to think about it. Jalil would have wanted us to stay alive.

I walked over to the part of the roof that was uncovered. Freya was already lifting Christopher and April up like an elevator. I stepped forward and felt an invisible platform lift me up and on to the roof. I could already feel the wind and sheer freezing rain.

The roof became visible. Around me were the silvery versions of Tyr, Oller, Loki, Christopher and April. Above us, Aegir, who was still light blue with deep black blue curly beard his many different assortments of bedraggled armor, had created a giant globe of water. It looked like he had taken the worst storms of the Northland oceans and compacted them in to this gyrating, angry sphere of water. From this globe, an arch of rain and sleet was falling furiously like millions of archers were loosing bolts of rain in to the forest. The sphere dripped menacingly and I could feel that the water was probably about thirty degrees colder then it should have been without being a block of ice. It was liquid nitrogen when it touched my skin; freezing my flesh from skin to bone.

The gunfire ahead of seemed to have ceased a good deal. Every so often a soldier would fire a blast of bullets, but they didn't do much more then that. Every so often a shivering soldier would run forward and take a kneel. Oller was fast. One shot and they were dead. I was curious how many of the Sennites were actually dead. They had killed a good number of our men. They had killed Jalil.

Freya looked worn and tired. Tyr looked angry and worn. Loki looked angry and fierce. Oller looked fierce and anxious. Aegir looked fierce and scared. We were scared. I was angry. I wanted back to the real world. I wanted out of Everworld. It was too much.

Freya called out over the roar of the water. "We must fall to the horses. They lie behind the fort at least 900 paces. Aegir cannot hold the storm much longer. Our seidr has been tapped by the power of the enemy. They surround the horses. Our battle is lost if we cannot flee with a swiftness" This wasn't great news. We had to escape in the middle of an ambush.

"Alright." My voice was still not my own. It was high and pinched and hollow. "There's pretty much no way out of this. I suggest Aegir drowns the forest as much as possible and we run like hell to the horses. I'll give the count" Two soldiers jumped out of the forests, looking stark white and soaked. Oller let loose two bolts in the matter of a second and they both fell. One more jumped out, firing madly. One more bolt. One more dead. Three more, all firing directly at us. The plumage that surrounded the fort shuttered and blew apart. They were getting closer. One. Two. Three. Dead. We had to go soon. Loki

"Why don't you guys just super-size your asses!" Christopher screamed. His voice was still strained and he sounded deadly. "Come on! You're Gods! You can't die!"

Freya stepped up with a furious look. "We cannot die, but the enemy holds in their hand a power that is more dangerous then the Gods themselves! They're weapons seem to wound us as if we were naught more then a mortal!" We all froze. Even Aegir stopped. Guns could defeat a god? They were just metal and chemistry. We had to get out of here.

"Let's get out of here!" I screamed. "Freya. I know you're weak but we need shields and speed. On the count of three Aegir will blow that big ball of water in a fire-hose forward and behind us. Then we run. As fast as possible." Five more men popped in to the clearing, separated by about 20 feet between each of them, firing like crazy. Oller shot like mad, reloading before the arrows even hit their target.

"Alright!" Two more popped out. One bolt. Two bolts. Dead. Time to go. "ONE!" I yelled. Adrenaline. Fear. Anger. Welcome to Vietnam, David Levin. "TWO!" Freya had already moved a few of the logs to make a ramp for us to run. Time to die, David Levin. Die like a man. Die like your dad's buddies. You've earned your purple heart, now earn your silver cross, delivered to your mommy on a folded army flag with your Dress Greens ironed out. "THREE!"

Before the words even left my I was running. I was running for my life and I didn't even know it. I didn't even get time to notice the blast of noise as two giant waves surfed the air and hit the ground like a tsunami, blasting the dirt up about 8 feet. My gun was in my two hands, my sword was slicing my pants to pieces. My blood was red hot in my veins and my muscles were already tender from the stress.

Four men. Four men: guns raised, fingers on the trigger. I took a kneel. One shot. Two shots. A burst of shots. No time to see if they were dead. They were down and that's all the that mattered. April had tripped. Tyr had her. Christopher was just in front of me. I was running again. I didn't even know I had gotten up.

BOOM! Grenade. Pop pop pop. Gunshots. Oller had just fired two bolts. Two muffled screams. April was running again. Tyr had ran in to the trees and was now slaughtering two Viet-Kong with M-16's. Vietnam, David. You were in some Steven Spielberg War Movie. These weren't your eyes. This was a helmet cam. Squibs and blanks and digital tracers.

Three men. One, two, three. Bolts to the chest. Three more. Gun fire. A scream. April. She was still running. Tyr was clenching his stomach. More gunfire. I raised my gun. Three round bursts. My shoulder was raw. Still running. Bullets. I could see them. Tracer rounds. In front of me. Behind. We were discovered and they were opening fire.

Red light. A boom. My hearing was gone. My ears were ringing and my eyes were seeing bright whites and bright red. Had I been hit? What was that? Another scream. April's again. I muffled yell from Freya. Someone had lifted me up. I squinted to see Christopher pulling me up by the shoulder. He was blurred and bright. Impossible to make out clearly. Running again. Guided running. Christopher's hand was on my back. I opened my eyes wider. The adrenaline was clearing my vision.

Freya stopped running. So did Tyr. Then Loki. Then Oller. Me, Christopher and April were in a tight group behind them. Loki's face did not reflect his cool self. His teeth were clenched in anticipation, but his eyes were wide and confused. His blonde hair was streaked in bright blood. Who's blood?

Aegir's. Aegir lay a few steps behind, his body now a mauled representation of its original shape. He had been hit by a grenade. His left arm was gone. His right was nothing more then stew meat on a splintered bone. He was a huddled mass of pathetic mortality. He was dead. The Sennites had killed an entity.

"Why have we stopped?" I screamed at the top of my lungs. My eyes were still not perfect. Freya pointed forward. A Slepinir horse laid on the ground, its eight legs curled beneath it. It was dead. Two others lay on their sides, 8 bloody legs kicking for ground. Their whinnies were mad and louder and rumbling. We were dead.

Oller fired bolt after bolt all around us. Freya was conjuring fireballs and firing them wildly in to the woods. I was firing my M-16. I didn't even notice. Christopher was huddled behind a large tree, his head slumped and his eyes shut tight, April at his side, praying silently. Goodbye, friends.

Bullets were flying. We had no escape. It was a matter of time before a few of those Sennites got close enough to throw a grenade in to the center of our happy little group. Bullets flew all over the head. Who would have ever thought that a bunch of Neo-Nazi punks would kill me in a magical world that was a mirror image of 9th century Norway. Dear Mrs. Levin. We regret to inform you that your son was killed in the line of duty serving the good of the Gods of Everworld. He was clipped by a bunch of white supremacists with machine guns while all he had was a sword and a gun that surely to be out of ammunition. Bye bye, General Davideus.

Bullets flew all over our heads now. All the living Sennites must be on us. I could see men army crawling and crouching through the thicket, firing machine guns and pistols. Some were even taking careful aim. I was still firing my M-16. I couldn't even feel it. The whole thing was blurring by. My life wasn't exactly flashing before my eyes. Nothing was. I couldn't see anything, yet I could see exactly what was going on. I was aiming perfectly, but I couldn't see a thing. It was blurred and narrowed and distorted. A few bullets zinged past my ears, but I didn't hear them. I was ready to die fighting and that's all the registered.

BANG. A flash of white. Burning white light. Lightning from no where.


	3. Chapter III

CHAPTER III

Electricity was firing in to woods. Sennites were falling. Burning by raw lightning or just the pure shock of the bolts energy. Fire was erupting all around us. The trees were ablaze. Lighting bolts were flying through the trees, seeking out their human counterparts. The loud thunderclaps were enough to blow my head clean off. My hair was standing on end. I could feel Galahad's sword humming with electricity.

Buzz. Crack. Buzz. Crack. Screams were filling the air. Ahead of me I could clearly see a dead Sennite. Split in two. Like a hot dog left in the microwave too long. His intestines were charred grey and spilling from his split stomach, and his ribs were pushing out of his chest. Human Cornish hen. Buzz. Crack. Lightning was illuminating the forest. Buzz. Crack. Fire was spewing from some unseen source behind me. A giant flame thrower. More screams. The Sennites were in retreat!

I stood up. Behind me stood a giant. A true giant. Not like Lorg that we had seen in the Eire, but a human giant, dressed in a loose sapphire toga, at least 80 feet high. The trees still trumped him, but he could easily have pushed them to the ground. Beside him stood a woman, one-third his size, in assorted Greek battle ware, throwing what looked like halogen lights. Athena.

The gunfire had stopped. So had the lightning. We were all standing around a now burning forest. The hairs on my neck had still not fallen, and the buzz of pure energy still hung in the air, along with the strong taste in the air that you get when you put your tongue on a nine volt battery. We were safe for a few minutes.

Athena looked at me and smiled. "General. You live." Her tone was gracious and somewhat sultry. I was being hit on by a 30 foot Goddess from Mount Olympus.

"Well finally something goes freaking right!" Christopher yelled. "I mean, not that I don't like trampling through groups of homicidal maniacs, each with their own cute little way to kill me slowly and painfully, and THEN the sudden addition of freaking Nazi-screw ups from inner-city Chicago. It's about time someone actually shows up right when we need them. Oh wait. YOU'RE ABOUT AN HOUR FREAKING LATE, MAN! Our goddamn friend is dead! You could've done your little pyrotechnics show about an hour earlier and I would've been a LOT happier! You pieces of shit know just how to screw things up!" April had put both her hands on his shoulders. He was heaving mad. His usual cool self was red eyed and manic. His whole body shook with rage. April was crying. She was shaking too. She was thinking the same thing. Me? I was thinking it too, but that's not what was on my mind. I refused to let it be. I refused to let Jalil be dead. He was alive. He was back at Olympus. Safe. Singed, but safe.

"Calm down, young one. We must leave. We are not safe."

"That's the understatement of the freaking century."

Freya made her presence known. She didn't even have to speak. God's didn't get along with other gods, and Athena was on Freya's turf.

"I am Freya of the Kings of Asgard! Forth chair of the Aesir and Leader of the Vanir! The thanks of Folkvang to your rescue, but it is to me to get these soldiers of Midgaard to their man, Merlin the Magnificent." Athena stood, expressionless. I was just as shocked. Gods were never thankful. That was the first time I had ever heard a god thank another. I think the Norse were my new favorite.

The giant spoke. His voice seemed to carry less from his mouth and more from Athena's. "Freya of the Folkvang. Your soldiers are also the humble soldiers of Olympus. We have been called here by Zeus, of Cronus. They have been called by Zeus to Olympus, which is now overrun by the Hetwan threat."

Freya looked around at us. I nodded. I did belong to Athena first. She had always helped us out. Freya's face hardened. The hard face of a woman betrayed, but determined to keep her poise.

"And who are you, noble giant?" asked Freya in a girlish tone, unlike the one which had before led hundreds of experienced soldiers to their doom.

"I, my lady of the Vanir, am Prometheus. Creator of and protector of Man. Giver of fire. Traitor of the Titans and Warrior to Olympus. I have come because the fates fortold that we were to find our soldiers here. I ask now that you return them to our favor so that I may free my brethren from the grips of the God-Eating beast, Ka Anor"

Freya thought this over. I felt like I was in the slave trade. Being tossed around to fight one of two battles was not my idea of a good time. April stood straight up.

"Hell no!" she screamed. "We're going to the dwarves! We have to! We have to get to Merlin. He'll decide where we go next, but for now, we're his." Prometheus swept a hand the size of garage to scratch his head. I couldn't see his face, but it was probably in deep thought.

Loki spoke. "Get them to their man. We can solve the problems of Midgaard with our own men. These…trespassers are not worth the time of noble Asgard." Damn. Lost another ally.

"No," Freya said loudly. "This giant is wise. He is right. We shall ride them to Merlin. We are in this together from here forward."


End file.
